


Dog Days

by Bounemr



Category: DCU, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Animal Transformation, F/M, Hijinks & Shenanigans, POV Jonathan Samuel Kent, Zatanna like shows up I guess bc obligatory magic, and Beast Boy, its basically literally just those two, marijon, sunshine children being actual sunshine basically, unnecessarily fluffy inner monologues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-19 12:46:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22177765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bounemr/pseuds/Bounemr
Summary: Soulmate AU where soulmates can feel each other's emotions. Also, Jon gets turned into a dog and sent to Paris. On the bright side, now he knows where his soulmate lives!
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Jonathan Samuel Kent
Comments: 16
Kudos: 402





	Dog Days

The thing about kryptonians around a yellow sun is that they have some absolutely absurd power-ups. Jon honestly doesn’t understand why or how his biology, which, according to his parents, makes him hardly different than every other person in another _lighting_ , gives him a whole menagerie of powers to play with under a yellow sun in particular. Super-strength, super-speed, physical near-invulnerability, eye lasers, super-hearing, super-eyesight, flight, ice breath (like a dragon!), honestly, Jon knows the limits of his father’s powers, but sometimes he wonders if there’s any limit to what they can do.

The thing about Earth is that there’s magic, for some reason. So, that’s nice. Magic is a pretty grand equalizer, all things considered. And for all that Jon’s powers sometimes seem like some sort of _deus ex machina_ designed to get him out of any scrape he finds himself in, he is, apparently, decidedly _not_ immune to magic. So that’s… nice.

_Mom’s going to kill me._

It’s not like Jon _asked_ the creepy bog witch to turn him into a dog. Matter of fact, he asked her _if_ she could turn _Damian_ into a _toad_. That’s a very different thing! And he was joking, anyway! Though, in hindsight, he supposes if he were a creepy witch, he might take offense at such a cliché, too, so maybe it really is his fault.

But teleporting him to… Paris? Is he in Paris? That’s new. And unnecessary. And rude. Oh, Damian is going to _flip_. _Okay. Okay, okay, first thing’s first, I got to contact Robin. Then Mom. Or, I guess Dad first? Can I get away with not telling Mom I got turned into a dog and teleported halfway around the world, or…? Yeah, probably not. I’m so dead._

_Of course, contacting_ anyone _is going to be difficult, on account of the… dogginess. Hey, maybe Beast Boy can help!_

Jon struggles to his feet. Paws. Weird. Everything is weird and uncomfortable and the tail would probably be cool if he had any control over it but he _doesn’t_ so it’s mostly just odd. _Is this how Beast Boy always feels?_

On the bright side, he’s in a little nook, so no one saw him appear, and he can get a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower in the distance, so he at least knows where he is. Where in the world, at least. In the city, he’s completely lost. Which is… less good.

Then, there’s the buzzing in his head. That’s decidedly _even less_ good. Or, well, it’s great! Absolutely wonderful! He’s never felt the bond this strong before, so he has to be close to his soulmate, which means they have to be somewhere in Paris, which is… brilliant! He can’t wait to find them! As soon as he’s not a dog! _Oh, god, I’m a dog._

Is now the proper time to panic? Because now seems like good time to panic. _“Get yourself together.”_ Jon can practically hear his best friend nagging him. Because there’s _never_ time to panic.

_Okay, Damian, I hear you. Let’s figure this out._ _I’m a dog, I need to find a way to contact home, and I’m in Paris, probably alone, with no way to communicate with the people here, much less across the ocean. I don’t even know French. This is going to absolutely suck._

_Speaking of. If my soulmate is from here, they probably speak French. Which means I’m going to have a great time trying to talk to them even after I’m not a dog. Also, I absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, accidentally make them think they’re soulmates with a dog. Better keep an eye on this bond. Running away if they come close won’t be a good first impression, but I’ll just have to explain after the fact._

_Well, let’s see what we’ve got to work with. Don’t know Paris’ policy on strays, but it might be a good idea to avoid running around in the street regardless. But if I stay totally hidden, there’s even less chance of being found. If I can fly, it’s not the same as when I’m me, so that’s out. Am I colorblind? Ugh, definitely._ Jon winces at the ache in his side. Nothing serious, but that’s exactly why it’s concerning. _Not invulnerable either. Should try, but most likely I don’t have any of my powers._

_No, that’d be too easy. A dog flying around shooting lasers from its eyes would immediately get Superman called in. Of course, he might not recognize me and try to_ fight _me, but at least we’d be able to work it out from there. As it is… what am I supposed to do?_

Deciding that, since he has no better goal in mind, he’ll head towards the only landmark he knows, Jon tentatively starts walking towards the Eiffel Tower. It’s a lot more difficult than he expects. For the first ten minutes or so, he just trips over his feet, steps on his own paws, or scratches himself by accident. He’s a bit of a mess, really, because walking on four legs is harder than he expects. _Okay, I definitely need Beast Boy._

He does get used to it. Jon figures out after getting frustrated and just laying down for a while that it’s better to just not think about where he’s stepping. His body moves just fine on its own. That doesn’t stop him from tumbling over himself, but it does help.

He just feels so uncoordinated. If he could only fly, this would all be so much easier. The Damian in his head is telling him to suck it up, but truthfully, Jon thinks now is just about the right time to panic. He really wishes he could afford to panic. But no, he’s Superboy and he’s trapped in the body of a non-super dog in an unfamiliar city and he doesn’t know who, if anyone, knows he’s here.

Presumably that witch does, but that’s not exactly a _comforting_ thought. He hasn’t been this vulnerable in a long time. He can’t afford to lose his cool. _Thanks, Damian._

As he walks, Jon desperately tries to think of what to do next. He knows what he needs to do, what he _should_ do, but he has no idea how he’s supposed to manage it. He doesn’t know Paris, so he can’t find a zeta tube. He doesn’t know French, and also he’s a dog, so he can’t just ask someone to use their phone to call Damian or his dad. He’s powerless, so making a scene to get attention would only get him thrown in the pound at best. He’s got no suit, and no collar, either. He’s totally on his own.

Wow, that’s scary.

_Maybe the magic will wear off? It’s happened before. Not this exact thing, but… maybe. Either way, Damian will definitely find me. I just have to find a safe place to hunker down and he’ll find me. Eventually._

There’s a wave of warmth that surges from somewhere deep inside him, a comfort he’s felt before, but at the moment doesn’t work exactly how it’s supposed to. His soulmate’s presence tickles at the bond. He can feel it like it’s a tangible cord tugging from the base of his brain. And then something new comes across the bond and Jon wants to collapse or knock his head against the wall.

He’s worrying them now. Great. That’s exactly the way to keep them _away_ from him until he’s turned back.

He does his best to send his apologies across the bond, but it doesn’t feel like they’re particularly reassured. Not a good sign.

Jon winces at even the thought. _I can’t believe I’m doing this._ He’s always loved his soulmate. Always loved this complete stranger in his head that hears when he’s upset and always does what they can to comfort him. He’s always tried his best to return the favor. Their gentle reassurances make him feel like things are going to be okay, even when he’s feeling left out or weird or he’s in the middle of a crisis. Their joy gives him joy. Their pain gives him pain. Jon knows they’ve been stressed recently, and he’s been doing his best to help them like they help him, and he feels their appreciation in return.

There’s just something so profound about someone who he can feel so intimately, even an ocean away. Jon’s just glad it’s only emotional. Even being invulnerable, he sure puts himself in pain enough in his line of work. If his soulmate had to feel that, too, he probably wouldn’t have the heart to do it.

He’s always daydreamed about meeting his soulmate. He’s sure Damian is sick to death of hearing Jon ramble about them. His parents, too. But he just can’t help it! He doesn’t have to wonder what kind of person they are – he knows that, intimately. They’re good. They’re compassionate and kind and they worry a lot but it’s that kind of keen worry that focuses outward. They doubt themselves, but rejoice aligns with relief, so they get through whatever they struggle with. And the _awe_ with which they see the world… no one who goes about their day-to-day lives filled with that kind of wonder is anything but the best person around. Jon is sure they’re creative. If they don’t take inspiration from their scenery, he’ll eat his paw.

…Hopefully he’s turned back into an invulnerable super-boy before he has to make good on that.

But he knows them. He knows what they feel. They’ve been more stressed recently, but when that subsides, they’re still the same wonderful soulmate they’ve always been. They feel like his unspoken best friend, with him through thick and thin, always supporting him and letting him support them in whatever ways he can. So, when he meets them, he imagines it’ll be the best day of his life.

At least, if he isn’t a dog when that happens. It’s physically painful to him to do so, but right now he can’t seek them out. Not unless he has reason to.

Then again, they might be the only person in Paris he might stand a chance of both finding and convincing to help him. He doesn’t exactly have many other options.

But he should definitely wait first. Find a safe place, rest for a while, regain his strength, give Damian a chance to find him. Give himself a chance to think of something else. Even if he can use the bond to convince his soulmate that he’s not actually a dog, if he can get this figured out without involving some random civilian, that’s the better option.

_Oh, that’ll do._ Jon spies a fire escape that reaches to one of the rooftops. He can get up there and curl up for a while with little danger of someone stumbling across him. Getting up and back down might be a bit of a problem, but he’s Superboy. He can handle some stairs.

Besides, the closer he gets to the Eiffel Tower, the stronger his soulmate bond tugs at him. Whoever his soulmate is, they’re over there for sure. As much as he wants to, Jon knows getting much closer is too dangerous.

The roof is flat, thank goodness, with a raised edge around it, so once Jon hops that he’s fairly well hidden. He’s not sure what time it is, but it must be getting late. It wasn’t too late when he got in this sticky situation, but Paris is also several hours ahead of Metropolis, and getting across the city on foot, as a dog, while trying not to draw attention to himself is tiring, and time-consuming. This will be a good place to take a nap. He can take stock of the situation again in the morning and decide on his next course of action.

Heck, maybe Damian will have already gotten everything figured out by then! That sounds like him. He’ll wake up tomorrow Superboy again, with Damian scolding him about letting his guard down and they’ll head back to Metropolis together and this whole thing will just be a weird fever dream. Except his soulmate! He’ll come back to find his soulmate, of course. Damian will help. He speaks French, and as much as he pretends not to be, Jon knows he’s a softie deep down.

Yeah. That’s how it’ll go. _Then Mom’ll kill me for being late._

* * *

Jon can feel his soulmate. He can feel them getting close. _What time is it?_ His stomach is fighting him as much as his bleariness as he tries to shake himself awake. _Oh, no._ It’s bright, so not early. _How long did I sleep?_

The familiar soothing comes through his bond again, but for probably the first time since the bond manifested, it actually makes Jon _more_ panicked. It’s too strong. They’re too close. He can’t let them just find him like this. Not now. Not yet. The feelings come through more insistently, practically begging him to calm down, stay still, and let them come, but he _can’t_.

Jon forces himself to his feet. He’s hungry, of course he is, he hasn’t eaten in… he’s not sure exactly how long. Half a day maybe? Not unworkable, but too long to not have any idea where his next meal will come from. He’s parched, too. This isn’t going to work. What he’s doing now isn’t sustainable. He needs supplies.

But first, he has to get away. He can’t fall back on the bond yet. He can’t put his soulmate through this yet. Not until he has no other option. He’s not even sure he’ll be able to convince them he’s not just a dog, much less that he’s a person turned into one who needs their help contacting his friends and family. His soulmate is getting closer and he has to get away.

He practically falls down the fire escape and takes off into the city. Away from the direction of the Eiffel Tower. They got closer as he went that way last night, so hopefully they’re approaching from that direction now. Going directly away is unproductive, that’s where he came from, so he goes sideways. Away from his soulmate, circling the tower.

As he passes, just a streak through the city, people jump back and scream, getting out of his way. He’s thankful but hopes that the noise doesn’t attract his soulmate. And he feels bad for scaring them. He must be a frightening sight. He’s a golden, he thinks, based on when he saw his reflection in the glass of a storefront. So, he’s not huge but he’s got a fair bit of size on his side, as far as dogs go. The more common ones, anyway. But he’s also sprinting through the city like he’s possessed, and most people will get out of the way of a dog running like the devil is on its heels.

He fights back the grimace of shame and embarrassment every time someone leaps to get away from him, and only ducks into an alley to try to hide when he feels the soulmate bond weaken a little. Not enough. Not nearly enough, but as much as Jon can hope for in the circumstances. The sharp pain that drifts across the bond doesn’t make it any better. Disbelief, confusion, betrayal. Whoever his soulmate is, they don’t understand why he’s avoiding them, but the avoidance is impossible to miss. Jon feels like there’s a pike through his chest, knowing and feeling the pain he’s causing them, but still he rationalizes. This is better than them seeing him as a dog. There’s no way he can explain that. Once he’s back to normal he can apologize and explain but until then he can’t be caught. He just wishes he could do more right now than smooth out what comes through the bond and send his apologies back in return.

But besides that, a frantic dash like that uses a lot of energy, and he’s already lacking that. He’s hot and panting, but his mouth feels thick and full of mucous and it’s not doing much at all to cool him down. It’s only drying out his mouth further and making him more parched than he was.

As he stumbles into the next street, he can’t help the whine that comes from his throat. _New priority. Food and water. It was dumb of me to not think of that first. I should have looked as soon as I got here. Geez, I’m such an idiot._

_Water’s more important than food. I bet there’s fountains somewhere, I just need to find them. Not exactly good for my pride, but I don’t think anyone will get too mad at a dog drinking out of a fountain. And then… am I above scavenging for food?_ Jon curls his lip at the thought. _I’m definitely above stealing, so I’m not sure I’ve got much of a choice._

Rounding a corner, Jon catches sight of something absolutely beautiful. It’s just a small little plinth, Jon would think it’s just decoration if someone weren’t using it, but there’s a person pressing a button on the side, and a stream of water flows out of the faucet into their waiting cup. _Perfect._

Jon approaches the fountain but waits his turn, because his parents taught him better than to push someone out of the way like that no matter what kind of situation he’s in. He attracts a bit of attention, but then he has since he’s gotten here. There are a few groups of people eyeing him warily, and the man filling his cup blinks at him with astonishment. He says something in French, but Jon has no idea what, so he just keeps waiting. Eventually, the man’s cup is full, and he moves back to cap it. About time. Jon’s turn.

Jon eyes the fountain like a puzzle. It’ll be hard to hit the button himself and still duck down to actually drink the water, since he’ll have to lift up onto the thing to hit the button at all. Still, it’s nothing too ridiculous. His dog body is at least flexible.

But after he spends a moment pawing at the button, he hears a bunch of collective “awws” and he’s distracted enough by them to turn to face the crowd. _Oh._ They’re all staring at him, cooing at him trying to get water. It might be more endearing if he weren’t legitimately worried about his water supply.

The man who was at the fountain before, now with his bottle put away, talks some more and comes close again. Jon backs up on instinct. He already doesn’t like that he’s got this crowd’s attention. If many more people show up, or they close in much more, they’ll have him trapped here. He’d rather look for another one of these fountains, one less occupied, than risk being trapped and caught.

But the man coos at him, something soft and welcoming in his language, and gestures for Jon to approach. He holds himself back as much as he can and presses the button, letting the water fall to the grate below. With one last wary look and one more wave to come in, Jon figures he’s probably alright.

He laps at the water. It’s awkward and splashes all over his face because he’s not used to drinking as a dog and he’s also trying to drink from a little stream, but it does quench his thirst. That’s one problem solved. _Thanks, stranger!_ Now Jon knows what the fountains look like, and he’s sure he can operate them himself if he needs to. As soon as he finds food, he can get back to figuring out how to contact Damian. Simple.

Jon can feel his tail wagging. When he’s done drinking, he backs up, barks for the man who helped him, and turns tail to run. Nice people or not, he’s not sure how he feels about them all trying to pet him, and he definitely does not miss those looks they’re giving him. There are still too many people. He knows he’s better off without a huge crowd around him, so he tries to remove himself from that as soon as he can.

With one goal formed and accomplished, Jon is feeling pretty good about himself. Now that he’s looking for them, he sees the fountains all over the place, too, so he won’t want for water. As for food… he supposes he can find a park and beg? Seems a little demeaning, but surviving is what’s most important. Damian will find him soon, so he only needs to hold out that long.

Assuming Damian isn’t stuck in Bangladesh as a cat or something. Actually, knowing Damian, probably even if he is. _No need to worry about him. Damian has gotten us both out of much worse than this. Worry about yourself first._

_Let’s find a good place. I could follow my nose. If there’s food, there’s bound to be scraps somewhere. Even if it’s just rooting in the dumpster. That… probably wouldn’t kill me. What can dogs eat? Can I even get into a dumpster like this? Ugh, I am so not down to be Tantalus. I’ll figure something out. It’s not like I haven’t had to find food before._

Jon sniffs at the air and follows the first thing he decides is edible. It’s a lot of wandering around, and for the most part he stumbles across people going about their lives with food on them. He tries not to get caught staring. He’ll beg if he has to, but he hasn’t quite reached the point that he can’t try for something less humiliating.

He does get an idea for the layout of the area he’s in, though, which is good. Still, except for some street stalls, not even the trash is in easy reach of him, and he’s definitely not about to steal from one of the stalls, so he strikes out on food for the moment. He’s about to head back to a park he passed earlier when he feels the ground under his feet rumble.

_Paris doesn’t have earthquakes._

It’s probably a stupid first thought, but it puts Jon into high alert. _This isn’t natural. What’s happening?_ People around him stumble from the tremors, but right themselves quickly. He’s astonished to see many of them pull their phones out rather than run screaming. Chatter increases, to the point that the noise is starting to overwhelm him a little.

Worse, there’s a spike through his soulmate bond. Alert, attention, intent, then a pause and a wave of soothing. _Why are they so good at that?_ It only occurs to him now that that isn’t just their standard reaction. Jon has felt the first part before. It happens a lot, actually, where something seems to take them off guard and they feel resigned, or angry, or frustrated, but it always comes with that sense of duty. Jon has the impression that they just have commitments that they sometimes (or often) need to drop what they’re doing to handle.

He can’t be sure, of course, but he feels the same things sometimes when Damian shows up to drag him on missions without warning. That’s been happening less as Jon has been getting older and trusted with more responsibility, though. They don’t need to sneak around like they did.

People are shouting in French and all of a sudden everyone is running together. Jon has to swallow his panic and get in his Superboy mindset to avoid being trampled. He dodges feet and weaves through legs until he reaches a safe place to wait for everyone to clear out, and then he runs in the opposite direction.

He may not be invulnerable. He may not have all his powers. He may not even have a humanoid body. But he’s Superboy. Something is happening and he can’t just ignore it. Good people get involved, whether they’re super or not. And even if there’s nothing he can do in this body to help, he can at least get information. That’s important. He still has no idea how long he’ll be stuck here. Those people reacted like they’re used to this. They all checked their phones, probably for a report, and then ran together in the same direction. Most likely their phones told them where to avoid, too. This isn’t a new thing, and if it’s not a new thing it can happen again, and if it can happen again then Jon needs to at least know what’s happening.

Jon blocks out everything except his new mission. This is a crisis of some sort, and he can’t afford to be distracted. Unknown enemies are always the most dangerous. Another tremor almost takes his paws out from under him but he gathers himself up and keeps going.

On an innocuous street, bordering the river, the Seine, if Jon remembers right, Jon sees the last thing he expects to find in Paris. A supervillain.

They’re ranting loudly in French and taking huge swings at something even less expected. Superheroes. _I’ll assume the one causing the quakes is the bad guy._ Jon tucks himself into an alley to spy on the battle.

The villain is garishly dressed, and maybe it’s Jon’s totally ordinary dog eyes but he doesn’t recognize what the outfit is made of. They’re swinging a mallet that’s demolishing things astonishingly easy, so that has to be some special material that can withstand impacts like that, and the villain probably has super strength. Otherwise, they hold their own when the heroes get in close, so combat training seems likely, though it’s no immediately recognizable style to Jon. Damian would probably know.

And there’s two heroes. The spotted girl is the obvious leader, and the catwoman fanboy is some sort of sidekick. Or partner. Jon prefers partner, and Damian usually takes control of missions so it’s probably unfair to call the cat dude a sidekick without even knowing anything about him.

Well, really Jon prefers _friend_ , but even after all these years Damian’s such a stick in the mud. At least he’ll admit it when they’re not in costume.

Anyway, the heroes _do_ have distinct styles. Cat-guy flounders a lot, but he really shines when he uses that baton of his like a saber. He looks like a fencer. The girl is an acrobatic fighter like Nightwing, and uses a throwable weapon with a grapple. It’s a… yo-yo? Odd, but Jon’s seen dumber weapons. He’s seen Damian take down villains with dumber weapons, actually, so he’s not judging. Jon doesn’t even _use_ a weapon, though admittedly his plethora of powers kind of make him a living one, so maybe he doesn’t count.

But there’s something odd, something he can’t place. It nags at him. It’s so frustrating because he knows Damian would know it right away, but it’s taunting him from the edge of his mind. Something about how these people fight. It’s… awkward. Inelegant. Damian would be disgusted.

Now that he’s thinking about it, even the villain is like that. _Are these people trained at all?_ _That can’t be. That’d be ridiculous. But it almost looks like they’re self-taught. Spots definitely has some martial arts training, but I’m not convinced it’s a ton of it. Kitty has sword training, maybe, but nothing else. And the bad guy… no, they definitely rely too much on their strength. They’re throwing their weight around, even when they swing that hammer._

_If they’re all new, at least that explains why we never heard anything about this before. But then why was everyone acting like this happens every Tuesday?_

Jon is contemplating this and taking in all the details he can from the battle. He knows jumping in would only make him a liability, so he stays hidden. He makes a lot more useful observations about both the heroes and villain, and then everything is quickly blown out of the water when the heroes wrap things up.

First, the ladybug girl (Jon _thinks_ she’s a ladybug. He can’t see red, so he’s just going off the spots.) conjures something out of thin air, which, okay, _magic_. Magic isn’t exactly the biggest surprise on Jon’s list right now considering he’s an actual dog, but still. These heroes are magic. That’s definitely important to know. The catman straight up disintegrates a lamppost, so that’s among his powers. Definitely dangerous. It’s magic, too, so it’d probably even work on Jon. When he’s _not_ a dog, that is.

Good to know there’s even more that can kill him besides kryptonite.

_Damian’s going to want to hear about this ASAP._

But that turns out to be just the start, because after the heroes get the villain’s necklace, they break it and a dark-colored butterfly comes out of it. A butterfly far too large to be contained inside the thing. Then the ladybug catches it with her yo-yo ( _Oh, that thing opens?_ ) and releases a _light_ -colored butterfly instead, and the villain is covered in some sort of magic and turns into an average, everyday person. So, that’s cool.

That totally makes sense. Sure.

Oh, and then the ladybug girl throws something in the air (Jon _still_ can’t get a good look at what it is.) and it explodes into a mass of ladybugs that fly over the area and magically repairs all the damage. That makes even more sense.

This isn’t weird at all.

_Magic sucks._

And… now is probably the time for Jon to make a strategic escape. In another circumstance he may try to make contact with the heroes, but Jon knows for sure that they’re not affiliated with the Justice League so he can’t trust that they’ll actually help him. Or understand that he needs help, but that’s a different issue entirely.

He got some good intel, so as soon as he finds Damian, he’ll tell him about it and together they’ll bug their dads to figure out what’s happening here in Paris.

Besides, the heroes don’t seem keen on sticking around. They take a moment to talk to the villain, softly, gently, like they’re comforting them – maybe the magic that transformed them made them evil in the first place? – and then the ladybug shoos the cat away and he takes off with a grin and a wink and the girl looks about ready to do the same.

Then he feels the panic. Which is odd. _Really_ odd, since for some reason his soulmate is panicking _after_ the villain is neutralized. He tries to soothe her, but then he realizes something that makes him panic himself.

They’re close. Like, _super_ close. _Aw, heck._ While he was so focused on the fight, he must have actually been heading towards his soulmate without realizing it. That’s what he gets for ignoring the bond. _Better get out of here._

With that very goal, Jon turns tail to find his way back to the area he sort-of knows, but he only makes it halfway through the alley before the ladybug girl drops down in front of him. _Nope! Bad!_ Skidding on his paws, his momentum carries him forward despite every inch of him screaming to turn back the other way. He tumbles over himself and faceplants, but that’s not the worst part.

No, the worst part? The confusion, the panic, the disbelief, the shock flooding through the soulmate bond. It’s almost overwhelming alone – the soul bond is never _that_ strong. It makes two things abundantly clear. One, this ladybug hero is Jon’s soulmate, and two, she knows he’s her soulmate. Or, well, she knows he, currently a _dog_ is her soulmate. And she’s freaking the heck out.

There are times when the soul bond is difficult to handle. Times Jon will never forget. Times when, even through the distant soul bond, the pain and anxiety pouring through it is so acute that Jon can only assume one thing from the poor girl on the other side of it. She’s going through a panic attack. He never knows what to do. He can push calming and soothing feelings through as much as he likes, but when it gets that bad, he can’t imagine it makes much difference. The soul bond is always a bit distant. From what he’s told, that’s even true among soulmates who’re with each other. Unless it’s exceptionally strong or he focuses on it, the feelings leaking across are almost imperceptible. When he’s focused on other things, it’s too easy to block it out entirely. That’s how he managed to get into this situation in the first place. So if he’s flooded with the panic, so much so that he can hardly breathe, he can’t even imagine what she’s feeling.

But what is he supposed to do? _I have to convince her I’m not a dog. It’s too late to run, which means I need to try to get her help._

Jon takes a deep breath and, with all the lessons he’s taken from seven years of crime-fighting with Damian Wayne, schools his own emotions. He can’t afford to lose himself yet, not when his soulmate is panicking and doesn’t know what’s going on. Carefully, he considers his options.

His soulmate is rambling now, carding her hands through her hair and talking so fast that Jon probably wouldn’t understand even if he knew French. All he really has is body language and the soul bond, and the bond won’t help him much if she isn’t listening to it. Still, he gathers up his worry and well-wishes and confidence and shoves it through the bond as hard as he can.

It’s not helping much. But though it takes a minute, she does hesitate. Jon thinks he might finally break through to her, but then she’s enveloped in a flash of light and she’s dressed like an ordinary girl instead of in her ladybug onesie. _What the heck is_ that _?_

Out of her earrings, a little pixie appears, like the butterfly out of the necklace. The girl is still panicking, but the pixie thing is quick to recover from… exhaustion maybe? It flies up to the girl’s cheek and hugs her, and it’s barely big enough to hug just her cheek.

_I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on. Please, calm down!_ Jon is feeling helpless and a little desperate, but he can’t do anything here. The fairy, luckily, it seems can. It says something to the girl that calms her a bit, and Jon takes that opportunity to throw all the feelings he’s been trying to get to her through the bond as quickly as possible.

_Finally_ , he seems to get through to her. Her own panic dampens, and Jon sighs with relief. The girl is still freaked, though, and mutters something Jon wishes desperately to understand. _I just want to help, but I don’t understand you!_

The fairy says no about whatever the girl was saying, and thank the lord he can at least understand that much, and Jon also catches a word that sounds like “magic” which he hopes means what he thinks it means, and then the girl calms down even more. The panic recedes for… curiosity? _Please tell me this fairy thing can sense magic._ A sharp whine pierces Jon’s ears, and it’s only with the embarrassment of hindsight that he realizes _he’s_ the one making the sound.

Jon doesn’t know what to do but send reassurance and care over the bond as his soulmate chats with the fairy. Soon enough, though, the girl crouches down to his level and smiles at him. She seems very sweet, but he can feel her uncertainty. He does his best to quash that. _It’s fine. I’m the one who’s sorry. By the way, I’m not a dog._

Even his complete lack of understanding of French doesn’t stop him from realizing that she’s introducing herself. Marinette, she says her name is. The fairy is Tikki. The word Kwami is thrown in there, too, which Jon thinks is probably what Tikki is supposed to be. Hard to tell. _I’m Jon! I wish you could actually understand that!_

Marinette has her hand out, as if to shake his. _At least she has a sense of humor about it._ Sending that flash of amusement across the bond, he lifts a paw to drop into her hand. She giggles as she shakes his paw and Jon feels like covering his face.

_Aw, that’s so cute!_ Her laugh is bright and clear like sunshine. It makes Jon feel like if she’s there giggling, he doesn’t need a yellow sun at all to fly. It makes his breath catch in his throat in the best way. Such a small thing and it almost overwhelms him. _Come on, you’re Superboy. Get it together._

Still, this is his soulmate. He’s loved this girl for years, so it’s no wonder seeing her in person is practically a religious experience for him.

And now that they’re calming down, Jon has the chance to appreciate the moment even more. Because, _wow_ , she’s pretty. She towers over him like this, of course, but he thinks (hopes) he’ll easily be taller than her when he’s back to normal. Jon wishes so desperately to have his body back if only so that he can see her in all her glory. His doggy colorblindness surely doesn’t hide the black hair, compact, muscular frame, and cutest little button nose he’s ever seen, but _good lord_ does he wish he could tell with certainty just what shade of blue her eyes are. They’re definitely blue, he’s fairly certain, just from comparing things he knows should be blue to what he’s seen, but the shades haven’t been quite right, so he doesn’t _know_ and it’s driving him crazy. Her skin, too. It’s clearly fair, but his stupid normal dog eyes make him feel like there’s a filter over everything and he just wants to see her how she is. He’ll never know for certain until he gets his own eyes back. And if she’s this pretty now? _Man_ is he lucky.

She giggles some more, and wow if that doesn’t leave Jon even more in awe of her, and she tentatively reaches out towards him. Jon doesn’t even need to think about it. He practically dives under her hand. This girl he’ll let pet him any day.

She keeps murmuring in French. He thinks she’s asking him things, from the way her voice raises at the end of each sentence, but unfortunately, he just doesn’t know what she’s asking. _Sorry. I wish I could answer you._

She sighs, and rather than answer with words, she sends reassurances through the soul bond. When she does speak again, he’s fairly certain she’s just talking to herself, so he allows himself to get lost in the feeling of her fingers through his fur, fondling his ear, and the gentle cadence of her voice. _French is a really pretty language. Just wish I understood it._

It’s an absolutely stupid, ridiculous feeling, he knows, but he can’t help but feel right here, in this moment, that if she keeps petting him like this, and talking to him, he could get used to being a dog. It’s just an overwhelming contentment that covers him like a blanket and douses all his worries.

With a word that sounds final, Marinette stands and pulls her hand away from him. Jon shakes himself out of his stupor and prepares to follow her lead. Right now, she’s got a lot more freedom than he does, and he can feel her worrying over the bond so he knows she’s trying her hardest to figure out their next step. He’ll follow her until he gets a chance to make communication a bit easier.

She may still know English. English is common even in countries with their own languages, so it’s not out of the question. As of right now, she has no reason to believe he’ll know it but not French. Tikki seems to have an idea that he’s a person, at least with how she looks at him and talks to him, but since she’s speaking French, too, she probably doesn’t have a clue who he is or where he comes from. Jon can work with this. It’s a better start than he expects. In the meantime, he’ll have to make do with the soul bond.

She gestures for him to follow her, so he does. She guides him through the city but seems to be avoiding more populated areas. He’s confused at first but feeling her feathery nerves and remembering that she’s a superhero he starts to piece it together. She knows the back streets. She probably needs them to transform with Tikki. But though Jon doesn’t know the laws, it’s likely Paris has a leash law. Marinette probably wouldn’t get in too much trouble, but she doesn’t want to risk it, especially since she probably won’t be able to tell her parents that her soulmate has been magically transmogrified into a pup so she absolutely needs to keep him and is definitely not just trying to adopt a stray.

_Oh, does that mean she’s going to have to put a collar on me?_ He wrinkles his nose at the thought. Lovely as his soulmate is, he’s not enthusiastic about the thought of a collar and leash on him. Damian will never let him hear the end of it if he finds out. Still, if it means going out without causing Marinette trouble or sneaking around like they are now, it might be worth it.

Together, they make their way through Paris to an absolutely delectable-smelling building. Marinette opens a back door and gestures for him to stay before poking her head in. She calls loudly to (Jon thinks) her mom and dad, and then waves him in, holding a finger to her lips for quiet.

He can do quiet. No problem.

She leads him up a set of stairs to a home, and then up a very steep, difficult to navigate set of stairs to a trapdoor that opens up to… her room, he thinks. It’s cozy. Warm. When he scrambles inside, that’s the sense he gets. There’s a chaise nearby that Marinette gestures him to, inviting him to use it. Marinette herself collapses into her desk chair and leans back to sigh.

There’s a mannequin that catches his eye, with a partially assembled dress draped on it. _Does she make clothes? That’s so cool!_ A cork board has pictures of her with an assortment of other people, her friends, Jon assumes, as well as a bunch of random pictures which Jon can only piece together as part of some sort of mood board. Given what he can see of her hobbies, a mood board sounds about right for her. Her bed is up more stairs, over her desk (which has a sewing machine on it), and there’s a skylight above it – that’s interesting, and convenient given her superhero day job. Fairy lights and flags and other cute decorations fill more space, but it all feels purposeful and welcoming and isn’t overbearing, though Jon thinks the color scheme he sees is kind of drab – he assumes Marinette likes red, since that’s the primary color his ordinary dog eyes are missing and he can imagine that color filling up the room nicely and making everything make just a little more sense.

The whole place smells like freshly baked bread and cookies. Jon can hear customers chatting downstairs and the city just outside the walls, but here is safe. For now, he’s safe here.

Marinette talks gently again to him, and he feels her worry. _I don’t know, either. Unless I can tell you what I need, we’re kind of stuck. Not that I actually know how to reverse the whole dog thing. I’m sure Dad knows someone._

There’s a flash of exasperation and another sigh on Marinette’s end, and Jon ducks his head. _Sorry. I just don’t know._

Marinette spends a long while talking to Tikki. Based on how they both keep looking over to him, Jon assumes he’s the topic of choice. But by the time they’re done, both throwing up their arms in defeat, they don’t seem to have any solid ideas yet. Marinette groans and rifles through a backpack. She pulls out some worksheets and turns to her desk to work on them with a sympathetic look in his direction and an apology sent over the bond. For leaving him on his own, he supposes. She has homework to do, it looks like, so he doesn’t mind at all.

He’s got what he needs for now, anyway. A safe house. That’s more than he had. Now he just needs to work on contacting Damian. Which wouldn’t be a problem if he had any way to communicate with Marinette, but he doesn’t, so he supposes he’s stuck back at the “wait it out for Damian to show up on his own” plan.

Sitting around is kind of boring, though.

Marinette glances up at him, gives him another sympathetic smile, a sorry, a yeah, I know it sucks, over the bond, and returns to her work. Tikki is off in some nook either sleeping or meditating. Or maybe thinking? She seems to have the best idea of what’s happening, so Jon very much hopes it’s the last option.

Maybe he should follow her lead, but he got plenty of sleep last night. He’s not really tired. Just bored. And to sit here, in his soulmate’s room, laying on her chaise while she’s just at her desk doing homework feels weird. They should be doing something together.

But who is he to demand that from her? He’s lucky she’s sneaking him into her room in the first place. He’s lucky she’s even putting up with his ridiculousness, being a dog and all that. Jon was raised better than to be rude to his host. He’s a guest here, one way or another, so he’ll be as patient as he has to be.

Marinette speaks again, catching his attention. She smiles gently at him and gathers her work. She stands and lays it all out on the floor before laying down in front of it and looking back over to him, patting the floor next to her.

_Aww, I knew she’s perfect._ Jon eagerly gets up to move to her side. If he crawls close, he can look over her shoulder and see what she’s doing, which is at least something to do. This worksheet is math. Not exactly Jon’s strongest subject, but he does recognize these equations.

Now, as she works, she chats. Jon has absolutely no clue what on earth she’s saying, but he still finds himself enraptured. She talks and talks and points to the paper and writes out her work and Jon thinks she’s using him as a rubber duck to work out the problems, but he’s totally fine with that because she’s so cute when she’s working. The way she scrunches up her face and sticks out her tongue when she’s on a tough problem is painfully adorable. From here, where he feels more involved even if he’s not actually doing any more than he was, he can watch her do this all day.

In a rare moment where Jon drags his attention away from Marinette and onto the actual work, he notices a misplaced number in the problem she’s working on. He shifts and tries his best to point to the problem with his nose since he doesn’t want to risk tearing her paper with his claws – he doesn’t have enough control to be sure he’s not risking it.

First, Marinette tries to push him away, but she quickly catches the problem. “ _Merci_.” She says, rubbing his head vigorously. She says more, but he can’t understand. He understands just fine the gratitude and amusement and happiness and pets, though. Problem acknowledged, he backs up again and settles down once more at her side, watching her work.

It’s… strangely nice. No worries, no duties. He’s done homework with friends before, but this is certainly not what he expects on his unwilling trip to Paris.

What did he do to deserve this? Really, he doesn’t know. To deserve a soulmate who is a hero herself, a soulmate who is so good that she takes him in without question. A soulmate who is so kind that she notices he’s feeling left out and starts talking just to involve him in something as simple as homework. A soulmate who is so understanding that they can lay here and have this moment despite having no way to communicate. It’s too good to be true.

Yeah. He’s going to fall asleep here and wake up back in Metropolis, or Gotham, with Damian nagging him about something and some new tragedy to send Superboy flying out the window and all this will be one weird, weird, _weird_ fever dream. That makes more sense than him being blessed with an actual angel as his soulmate. He’s definitely not this lucky.

Because he daydreams about his soulmate. He thinks about them so much he’s sure that the people who love him are sick and tired of the subject. He knows from the bond that his soulmate is a good and kind person, so this is all in line with what he knows. But this? This is above and beyond his wildest dreams. Just sitting together, listening to her ramble in a language he doesn’t know, helping her with homework despite that, it feels… It’s everything. It’s so little, but so much.

He’s a freaking dog, sitting in the room of someone he can’t talk to in a country he’s never been to, and he’s the happiest guy in the world.

Marinette drops her pencil and coos at him, reaching out to him and taking his head in her hands. Jon swears he sees tears in her eyes, which sends a jolt of worry through him, but she responds with a chuckle and a kiss to his forehead and a rush of affection that makes him feel loved.

* * *

_Like hell._ Jon thinks, staring at the collar Marinette is holding up. There’s no way, not a chance, that she’ll get him in that. _Sorry, Marinette, but no._

Damian is already going to be insufferable when he finds out about this, but if Jon has to wear a _Robin_ themed collar? Yeah, freaking, right. Not going to happen. In fact, Jon is just a tiny bit insulted that Marinette got a hero themed collar at _all_ and it’s _not him_. Or even Ladybug themed! He’d wear the heck out of that! But she specifically chooses an American hero, and she chooses _Robin_? That’s just rude. Honestly, at least Beast Boy would be ironic, but no, she chooses Robin.

_How could you? I believed in you._

Marinette rolls her eyes at his indignance and just laughs at him. He feels her teasing, and the wink she sends him lets him know she’s got more planned. Beckoning him over, she throws the collar on her desk and picks up a scrap of plaid fabric. _Now that, I can wear._ Sensing his approval, Marinette nods and wraps it around the collar. With a needle and thread, she makes quick work of covering the terrible “R”s, turning the standard collar into a bandanna with a convenient buckle for him.

_That works._

Placated, he’s more than happy to let Marinette fasten the collar around his neck. She murmurs in French, softly, apologetically – he thinks she’s still feeling awkward about forcing him into one since she knows he’s a person – but he reassures her that he doesn’t mind. It makes sense, and at least she’s not making him wear Robin’s logo.

Jon has to admit he’s quickly getting pretty stir crazy locked up in Marinette’s room. The first afternoon was fine. He slept at night, so that wasn’t a big deal, of course. But today she had school again and Jon was alone in her room for _hours_. She isn’t exactly prepared to entertain a person in a dog’s body, either, so it’s not like he has much to work with.

He tries the computer for a while, hoping to get a message to his family, but his paws are too big and too awkward to type anything comprehensible, and trying the keys with his nose wasn’t any more accurate. Maybe if he doesn’t have to stand on her chair to even reach the desk in the first place it would be more feasible, but as it is that option is out.

And as much as he’d like to open that chest in the corner, Jon knows whatever’s in it most likely isn’t a toy and is definitely none of his business, and the last thing he wants to do is take advantage of his soulmate’s hospitality by snooping where he shouldn’t. He seriously doubts it has anything that can help him, so it’s not worth the risk.

He’s also giving that mannequin a wide berth. He can tell that dress isn’t finished yet and he will _not_ blunder into it and ruin the thing.

So that’s all well and good, but it just restricts him even further, and with Marinette out all day he just… doesn’t have anything to do. He doesn’t like not being able to do anything.

And, of course, Marinette can sense his discomfort. She’s trying to soothe him through their soul bond all day, and when she does come back it’s with that infernal Robin collar and a leash. Jon may not understand what she says, but that’s self-explanatory.

He’s down for a walk. Anything to get out of here for a moment. But if he doesn’t want Marinette risking trouble, he can’t go out without a leash. So, it’s fine. He was prepared for this since she took him in. Sure, he’s not thrilled about it, but he doesn’t mind at all, and the pity and guilt coming across the soulmate bond is more than enough for him.

_Let’s go._

Marinette doesn’t bother attaching the leash to his collar until they’re already outside, and then she talks to him some more, which worries him because he _really_ has no idea what she’s trying to tell him. _Well, if I follow her lead, I can’t mess anything up too badly, right?_

As Marinette guides him out into the street and starts jogging down the sidewalk, Jon has no trouble at all keeping pace with her. He doesn’t pay attention to where they’re going. That’s the advantage of being on a leash, he supposes. He doesn’t need to. He just keeps himself firmly at her side, matching her pace, feeling how she tenses and relaxes through the leash. All the built-up energy inside him finally has an outlet, but even so he’s not about to go running off, or worse drag her along faster than she can go.

They stop a few times for Marinette to talk to people, strangers, he thinks, based on how she reacts to them, and he realizes she’s telling them not to try petting him. At risk of making things worse for her, and wanting to help, Jon plays up the timid dog angle rather than the aggressive one. He really would rather not be pet by strangers. That’s weird. It’s not that he doesn’t want the touch. He _likes_ touch, and he loves when Marinette pets him. He’s cuddly even as a person. So, he can live with it, but this whole scenario is embarrassing enough as it is. He’d just really rather not have total strangers pet him like he’s just a dog. So, when he notices people approach, he starts ducking behind Marinette, lowering himself a bit to give her something to work with.

She picks up on it fast. Appreciation from his end for her turning the strangers away and his behavior with a distinct lack of actual fear must not be hard to interpret.

It’s only when she stops longer than usual, and he recognizes the person she’s talking to as one of the people in the pictures in her room that Jon realizes he never considered what Marinette will say to people she knows. People who probably also know Marinette’s parents. _Oh, man, I should have stayed in her room._

There’s a quick flash of reassurance through the soul bond that catches his attention. Marinette is totally confident, totally comfortable. _Ah, she’s got an excuse. Maybe she’s just saying she’s walking me for someone else? That makes sense._

Thankfully, the friend leaves without too much fuss, so he’s alone with Marinette again. Jon is eager to meet her friends, of course, but given he currently can’t understand them and is also a dog, he thinks he prefers alone time a little more for now.

As they continue on their way, Jon falls back into a pleasant reverie. They stop by the Eiffel Tower, which has Jon bounding excitedly around Marinette when he realizes what the smug feeling leaking through the bond means. She brought him here on purpose. It’s time for sightseeing.

Though, that does raise the question: did Marinette figure out that Jon isn’t from Paris? She must have, right? Otherwise she wouldn’t bother bringing him to the Eiffel Tower. _Wait, no, it looks like this isn’t where she wants to go. We’re just swinging by. So, where are we going? Are we going anywhere, or is this just a walk? I really wish I understood French._

Jon follows her obediently, though she’s more than happy to hang out at the tower for a while and let him lead and explore a bit, and soon enough he finds himself at a staircase overlooking the tower and the whole plaza it’s situated in. It’s a stunning view, which Jon is too busy trying to take in to notice Marinette sit down on the stairs nest to him.

Jon honestly never thought Paris would be this pretty. The whole city is breathtaking. It’s bustling with life inhabiting architecture from way before their time. There’s an old feeling to the city that just isn’t there in Metropolis. Even in the big city of Metropolis, Jon’s never felt quite so small. Or young. It’s a pretty awesome experience.

(Jon still prefers Smallville, but Paris _is_ pretty cool.)

A country boy like him is a bit out of his depth here. No matter how many years he spends in the city, he knows his home will always be the farm. Paris is a double whammy, with the big city atmosphere but also the _history_ all around him. It’s certainly humbling. Or, maybe it’s just the dog thing. Whatever the reason, he’s lucky to have his soulmate to guide him around. Speaking of, she’s got her sketchbook out and is focused on her work. _Oh, geez. Yeah, could definitely get used to this._

It’s so dumb, his feelings. How desperate he is to be included, but how content he is when she just allows him to exist next to her. Keeping an eye on the pedestrians walking by, Jon tucks himself close to her side. He ordinarily wouldn’t try to get so close, not pressed against her like he is, but he doesn’t want to get in anyone’s way.

She doesn’t seem to mind, anyway. She lifts her arm, letting him slip his head onto her leg, and shifts to hold her sketchbook more comfortably while allowing him to watch what she’s doing. As she keeps drawing with one hand, the other finds its way back to his head, petting him idly. Her focus is entirely on her sketch, not him, but that’s alright with him. He’s just fine here, and he can keep an eye on passersby for her.

As he waits, he realizes that doing this is actually kind of dangerous. He’s getting comfortable. _Really_ comfortable. He still has no idea how to reverse the dog transformation and he still hasn’t managed to contact his family. He knows they must be freaking out by now, and they probably don’t even know what to look for as they search for him.

And yet… when Marinette sits down with him and lets him watch and talks to him while she works on whatever she needs to get done, he feels absolutely no need at all to get up and find that way to contact Damian or Superman. With her fingers scratching behind his ear, he can forget just how precarious his situation is. How vulnerable he is. He can just… be here.

Marinette’s pencil pauses, and Jon hears her sigh. She turns to talk directly to him, and then reluctantly gathers her things. _Time to head home, I guess._

_Come on, Jon, you need to focus. No more messing around. You got to think of a way to talk to Marinette. At the very least, you should be able to tell her you understand English. Yeah. Once that’s done, we can work on figuring out the rest._

The walk back to Marinette’s home is less bright, somehow, for all Jon’s serious thoughts. He’s trying hard to focus, to think about how to do what he needs to, but he keeps coming up empty. He has absolutely no ideas. Sure, Damian will probably show up to scold him soon enough, but he’s Superboy. He can’t just sit around complacent as Marinette’s dog. He has to do better.

This whole day was wasted on his irresponsible flights of fancy. Damian would never let so much time pass without even a thought to how he’s going to get back home.

But the bad thing is that Jon misses home. A lot. He can’t believe he let himself get distracted like this. _Focus. Figure this out._

* * *

Day three goes by ultimately much like the second day. Jon tries and tries to think of something to help him talk to Marinette, but nothing comes to him. He’s stuck in her room while she’s off at school, she takes him out after school to spend time in the city – and it’s fun, it’s a lot of fun, but Jon really misses his mom. He misses Damian and the Titans and his dad. He misses Metropolis. Marinette picks up on his mood, too, and does her best to distract him, but getting distracted isn’t helping the situation. It’s only making it worse, because he _still_ can’t figure out how to talk to her.

And then they settle in for the evening, and Marinette lays on the floor like the past two days and gets out her homework and invites him to watch.

And it’s English homework.

_That’s perfect!_

Jon isn’t sure exactly _how_ to get his message across to her, but he knows he has to make a scene. He has to show her that this is important. He can’t go barking or making a lot of noise, but he _can_ make a right nuisance of himself and push his excitement over the soul bond.

Marinette laughs and tries to get him to calm down, but she’s clearly not _getting it_ , so Jon starts to get a little frustrated. He keeps pointing his nose to the paper. _This! Please, understand!_ But she just talks to him more in French and reaches out to try to settle him down.

_Okay, new approach. Give her the answers._ Clearly making a scene isn’t working, so Jon moves on to the next thing that he thinks of. Proving to her, beyond a doubt, that he can read what’s on that paper. The math the first night was one thing, math is universal, and last night Jon couldn’t help with a lot of her homework since it was in French and he couldn’t understand it. But tonight? It’s English. It’s exactly what he needs.

Marinette hovers her pencil over the first multiple-choice question, and Jon very quickly reads through it to give her the answer. He shoves his head in her way, points to the question with his nose, and paws at the ground three times.

He can feel Marinette start to get irritated herself. She pushes him away, but he insists. He _has_ to make sure she understands, and he’s sure that she’s smart enough to get it before he stops her from doing her homework entirely. Again, he paws three times at the floor in rapid succession, pointing to the question with his nose.

Marinette wrinkles her nose at him, and then she hesitates. There’s curiosity again. Clearly, she knows he’s trying to tell her _something_. Tentatively, she moves her pencil to the answer choices and doesn’t take her eyes off him as she circles the third one.

He nods eagerly, sending all the enthusiastic positivity he can over the bond. _Figure it out! I speak English! Come on, Marinette!_

Marinette’s pencil clatters to the ground. “You speak English?”

_Yes! Heck yes! Finally, progress!!!_ Again, he nods, but he doesn’t need to. He practically leaps for joy without even thinking, and the feelings over the bond would be more than enough even if he doesn’t.

“You speak English!” Marinette laughs joyously. “You _can_ understand me! I thought for sure… do you just not speak French?”

Jon shakes his head vigorously. _Not even a little._

“Oh, that makes so much sense. That’s why you were always so confused. I’m so sorry, I didn’t think that you just didn’t understand French.”

_No worries! I can understand you now! That’s what matters!_

“I- I have so many questions!”

_I can basically only answer yes or no ones, but shoot!_

“I- you- why are you a dog?”

_Creepy bog witch. I don’t think I can explain that, actually. Not without actual words._

“Ah, sorry. I know you can’t answer that yet. Uh… but you _are_ a human, right? Not a dog?”

_Well… it’s complicated._ Jon nods, but knows that his sheepishness is leaking through the soul bond. Marinette makes a face at that. “What’s that mean?” _Look let’s just say human and call it square. That makes sense. At least for now. No real good way to explain I’m half-alien. I’m certainly not a dog, though!_

Marinette sighs, a cute, exasperated sound. “Do you know how to get you back to normal?”

Jon shakes his head. _No. It’s… likely it’ll wear off eventually, but I’m not an expert on magic. It could wear off tonight, or next week, or month, or never. Dad knows people._ I _know people. The Justice League can definitely get me back to normal, but… I have no idea how to tell you that._

It’s hard, that question. Jon does know how, but if he casually tells her that he knows people who can magic him back to normal (probably) there’s no way she won’t know he’s Superboy. And he definitely wants her to know! She’s his soulmate! He won’t be able to keep it secret if he tries, in the long run, but… much as he hates to admit it, he doesn’t know hardly anything about her yet.

She’s Ladybug, she fights with a partner, and her powers come from Tikki, a kwami that grants her those powers through her earrings. All practical knowledge. But he knows next to nothing about her villain, aside from conjecture based on the butterfly he saw, and he doesn’t know why he’s never heard of her or this villain before. Maybe it’s just above his paygrade. He’s still a minor, not in the Justice League proper, so there’s a lot that goes on without his knowledge, but it’d be reckless of him to admit so freely to those connections without knowing any more about his soulmate.

_Damian’s rubbing off on me. “About time,” he’d say._ _Doesn’t make it feel nice._

“Hey, we’ll figure it out,” Marinette murmurs. “I promise. What about your family? They must be worried about you. Can you lead us to them? I can try to explain if I can find them. Or, I can do it as Ladybug. Oh! Uh.” There’s a flash of panic, concerning but familiar. Now that Jon can see her, he knows this is from catastrophizing. It’d be cute if he didn’t know how keenly she feels that panic. He tries his best to reassure her, for all that’s worth. “Not that you’re not welcome here. I’m just not sure how to explain you being a dog to my parents… and there’s no good way to explain that to your parents either, is there? Still, they have to be worried about you.”

_You have no idea._

“Are they in the city? Is it possible to go find them?”

Jon shakes his head. As far as he knows, his parents have no reason to know he’s even in Paris. Though, magic-users in the League may have been called in. Maybe they could… track him, somehow. But if that’s true then Jon would no doubt be seeing Superman on the news circling the Eiffel Tower.

Actually, it’s possible they don’t even know. That’s why Jon is counting more on Damian finding him than them. The mission was always supposed to last a few days. Radio silence is alarming, but there’s any number of reasons that might happen. The alarm may very well not have been raised yet. It’s only been three days. Since he’s been silent that long, assuming Damian has been too, and hasn’t raised the alarm earlier, now would be the time they should be getting concerned.

Marinette hums, clearly troubled. “I can’t call them without their number. I don’t suppose you have an idea of how you could tell me that?” _Not a clue._ “And even if I had the number, I couldn’t explain this without at least knowing a little more about what happened.”

_No, but you could send a safe word. Am I safe, though? Sure, there hasn’t been any noise since I’ve gotten here, but who knows what could come after me if that witch wanted? I’m weak right now. It’d at least let them know I’m alive, and they’d trace your phone to figure out where I am and who I’m with._

_Well, I’ve got to do something._

Jon looks around for something, anything, and his eyes land on her pencil, still abandoned on the floor. _Can I? It might be hard, but even if we get the number through, she won’t know what to say. If I can write it, that’d be best._

Jon huffs. _Okay, we’ll try._ “You have an idea,” Marinette says. “What is it?”

Jon leans forward and tries to pick up the pencil in his teeth. It’s hard, but he manages it, then he drops it when he tries to turn it to point forwards. _Come on, you stupid thing._ Another attempt, and Marinette catches on. “Of course! Why didn’t we think of that before?! Here, hold on.”

Almost frantically, she pulls out a clean sheet of paper and lays it in front of him, and then holds the pencil up, eraser to him, so he can hold it in his teeth.

It’s… not very good. When he tries to write, the pencil keeps slipping, but he struggles through. He has to work carefully, and after a while gets the hang of it. It’s definitely not a long-term solution, it’s too clunky and he’d go through mountains of paper with how big he’s forced to write, not to mention it’s barely legible even then, but he gets through it.

He writes the important information. The number to text (Beast Boy – he’s not sure if Damian is safe or not. Beast Boy shouldn’t be on a mission right now, and Jon’s hoping texting him will clue the League in on his situation, if only that they should send him to investigate.) and the message (“Jon – Safe. With soulmate.” – It’s riskier, considering he’s technically on a mission, but Jon hasn’t seen any threats but Paris’ own villain yet and he’s not on a time crunch. Besides, using his standard code would only be suspicious to Marinette.).

Marinette frowns at him. “That’s it? Won’t they worry if you don’t give them more information?”

_That’s the point. They’ll investigate. But they’ll know I’m safe for now._

“Ah.” She sighs. “I suppose there isn’t any way to explain it, anyway, is there? At least they’ll know you’re safe. And Jon, is that your name?”

Jon nods eagerly.

Marinette giggles. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Jon. Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out.”

_I know we will._

Both reassuring each other, Marinette suddenly smiles sheepishly. “Ah, I still have to finish my homework. If you don’t mind?”

Jon giggles to himself and shakes his head, taking his seat next to her as before. _Message sent. You proud, Damian? “Absurd that it took three days for you to send a simple message.” Yeah, yeah, you could’ve had it done in ten minutes, I hear you. Shut up, already._

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Talk of Jon’s family is wordlessly outlawed, and Marinette instead talks about her homework, herself and her family, a bit on the hero situation and her villain, Hawk Moth, and then later the dress she’s making, and she talks a bit about a few other designs she wants to make, too, but overall it’s just a huge weight of Jon’s shoulders. To have communication open, finally, with both Marinette and his friends and family, to actually understand what Marinette is chatting about. It puts him at ease again. He lays on her chaise as she works on her dress, resting his head on his paws and just watching.

He’s already… a little too used to this.

Jon wakes to a scratching sound, and then to the click of a lock. _Heck, are her parents checking on her?_ He jumps up from the chaise, ready to bolt up to the bed at the next noise. No place on the floor of Marinette’s room is out of view of the trapdoor entrance, but if they’re checking on her, they’ll go up to the bed anyway. He doubts he can slip out the skylight without them noticing.

But… actually, the noise _is_ the skylight. And it’s opening. That’s even more alarming.

Jon jumps down quietly from the chaise, already creeping up the stairs and ready to throw himself at whatever dares break into a teenage girl’s room while she’s sleeping. His _soulmate’s_ room. That skylight entrance really is too close to her bed. She should sleep somewhere else. Somewhere safer.

But it’s not a criminal that comes in. No, it’s a green gecko, sticking to the ceiling even as the skylight lowers soundlessly behind him. That means he’s not alone. Superman, or someone from Beast Boy’s team, probably.

_That was fast. I guess they really were worried._

Knowing who it is, Jon backs down the stairs once more. Beast Boy follows, shifting back to his human form when they reach the floor. “That you, SB? Wow, you really got got good, didn’t you?”

“Oh, golly, I’ve never been happier to see you, Beast Boy.”

“Uh, rude. You should _always_ be happy to see me!” He grins impishly but makes sure to keep his voice low. “The girl’s your soulmate?”

Jon nods.

“Dude, your soulmate lives in a bakery? Lucky! And you’re alright here?”

“For now. That witch Robin and I went after turned me into this and dropped me here in Paris. I haven’t seen any sign of her following me, or anyone else.”

“The witch is handled. We found Robin, too. We just couldn’t find a trace of you.” _Oh, that’s a relief._ “Hang tight, dude. I’ll call Zatanna and hang around to keep an eye out for you until she can fix you.”

Beast Boy looks ready to take off, so Jon rushes to stop him. “Wait, there’s more. There are heroes here. Ladybug and Chat Noir. They’re fighting Hawk Moth. I saw one of the attacks. This moth guy is using citizens. Possessing them, somehow, and turning them into villains. Marinette didn’t go into detail on what makes people susceptible to it, or if everyone is, so be careful. Don’t let anyone know you’re here, or there’s a chance they’ll use you.”

Beast Boy’s face turns serious. “Damn. I was planning on talking to your girl tomorrow.” He shakes his head. “I’ll report it. Anything else.”

_Well, there’s that my soulmate is Ladybug._ “…No.”

“Alright. I’ll see what the League and your dad wants to do. Be ready to escape if you need to.” Beast Boy hesitates, looking at the bed above them. “You going to tell her you’re Superboy?”

“Going to have to eventually. If Dad approves, there’s no reason to wait.”

“Gotcha. Be back soon, SB. Oh, and, good luck with that.” Beast Boy chuckles silently and gives Jon a scratch behind his ears before he leaves as silently as he came, and Jon is alone in the dark once more. _Should probably get some sleep. Who knows what’ll happen tomorrow?_

* * *

As it turns out, when tomorrow comes, absolutely nothing at all happens. Jon is left in Marinette’s room to fend for himself again, again with an apology from her for keeping him locked up (though this time she can at least verbalize it).

He tries to settle in. Napping the day away would work, if only he were at all tired. He still doesn’t have anything actually entertaining within reach. But he lays on the chaise and waits and thinks and just tries to lose himself in his thoughts but it’s not as easy as it was before.

His skin crawls. It feels like his muscles are writhing without his permission, sending itchy ripples all along his body from nose to tail. It’s not long at all before he gets up and starts pacing in an effort to work out some of that energy, but it’s just not helping. If anything, it only gets worse.

Jon has no idea if this is a sign of the magic wearing off, or if he’s just restless because he’s half-expecting Beast Boy to drop in any second. It sure _feels_ like his body is trying to burst out of his own skin, but the timing is suspicious. Whatever the reason, it sucks.

But he can handle it. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling. Honestly, it could just be his own inability to use his powers. It’s not unusual for him to get restless like this, feel increasingly uncomfortable in his own skin, when he’s forced to go powerless for any significant time. It just feels wrong to deny that part of him, no matter how well he understands the need for secrecy.

That doesn’t make it better. He’s just so… _bored_. He wants to tail Marinette at school, or go for a run, or get back to normal and fly. Gosh, does he want to fly. It’s only been a few days, but of everything, he misses flying the most. The way the air catches his hair, how it pulls at his skin… _I wonder if Marinette will want to fly with me, someday._

Jon eventually allows himself to look at the time and groans internally. It’s hardly been a couple hours. Marinette is going to be gone for _forever_. Her familiar reassurance over the bond is appreciated but doesn’t really _help_ considering he’s about ready to throw himself out that window if only because it’d be interesting.

_If I had my body back it wouldn’t even hurt. I’d have to pay to replace her window, but I_ could _._

_Okay, that probably shouldn’t be as appealing as it is. I need something to do._

Jon climbs up to Marinette’s bed and examines the skylight above it. He doesn’t really have a reason to go out, but they are pretty high up so if he does, he doubts it’ll cause problems. So long as he stays away from the railing. And figuring out how to open it with his dumb doggy body is at least something to do.

It takes quite a bit of finagling, but he manages to unlock the thing. Then, he opens it by just shoving his face into it. Simple enough.

_Oh, that’s nice._ Jon closes his eyes and breathes in the fresh air. _That’s already so much better._ And there’s a convenient chair out here, too. Jon jumps up into it and splays out, enjoying the sun on his fur.

Smallville is quiet, but there’s always something to do. He’s either doing his chores or he’s with his family, or he’s playing games or reading. When Jon moved to Metropolis, he didn’t know what to do with his time. He still had books and games, but all of a sudden all his usual chores just… didn’t need to be done. For a while, he actually flew back out to the country just to do them because he couldn’t think of anything else to do with his time. Being stuck here with absolutely nothing to do is nothing short of torture.

That doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate the quiet moments, though. He can appreciate time alone with nothing distracting him. Going nuts in a room for eight hours isn’t exactly that, though. But laying here, soaking up the sun’s heavenly rays, this is alright. _I think I’ll stay up here until Marinette gets back._

Jon always has liked the sun. He still can’t understand how Damian does so much of his work in the dead of night. Call it a side effect of his abilities being solar powered, but the nighttime is just so much more depressing than the day. _Damian should really get more sun._ Jon giggles to himself. _That’ll be the day._

It really is nice, though. The heat on him. The light. It’s comforting. _And apparently, it’s_ not _just because I’m kryptonian. Take that, Damian._

Of course, time on the balcony doesn’t _stop_ Jon from getting bored out of his mind, but it does push that inevitability off for a while. By the time Jon spies students leaving the school across the way, Jon is not completely opposed to jumping off this balcony just to see if he can. Maybe the fall will shock him back to normal and he’ll just fly off safely.

It’d be more tempting if Jon knew the limits of this dog body of his. Damian could easily make it to the ground from here, so Jon knows a human can do it. He can see the route in his head. Slide down the side, jump to the streetlamp, back to the overhang and down to the pavement. Easy. No flight required. The problem is that right now he not only doesn’t have flight, but he also doesn’t have hands.

What will he even do if he does jump? Run over and greet Marinette on her way back from school? Make her sneak in the back way instead of going through the bakery and greeting her parents? Freak out her friends and cause problems for her because her dog not only jumped four stories down but exists in the first place?

He still hasn’t heard from Beast Boy. That’s kind of annoying. It was one thing when it was just on Jon to figure out how to contact them – that’s his own problem – but waiting for orders is torturous. And now that Marinette is coming home Jon knows he _won’t_ hear from Beast Boy until at least tonight after Marinette falls asleep. (It hasn’t really been that long, Jon knows, but even a few hours with nothing to do feels like days.) On the bright side, he doesn’t have to get all agitated waiting for something that isn’t coming. And Marinette will take him out for a walk. He _really_ needs a walk.

“Jon! I’m so sorry about that. I could feel how bored you were.”

Jon bounds over to the skylight that Marinette is poking her head through, content to call it even after shoving his face into hers so she’ll pet him.

“Ahaha, okay, okay, I feel you.” Marinette fights him off, giggling gently. “Let’s get you out of here, alright?” Marinette sighs and allows him to drop through the hatch into her room. As she closes the skylight, Jon can feel her hesitance. Whatever she’s thinking, she’s unsure about it.

It’s just habit to reach to the bond and smooth out those troubled waves. He stops at the foot of her bed and tilts his head, questioning her.

Marinette smiles at him and then sits. “It’s nothing. Just… I still don’t know how to get you back to normal. Your family will be wondering about you, won’t they? And even besides that… it just feels weird. I’m not sure whether to focus on making sure you’re alright here or to focus on getting you back to normal. I mean, I know I should focus on getting you back to normal, but you’re all alone with nothing to do while I’m at school, and I can’t help but think there’s _something_ we can come up with to make you more comfortable here.”

_Well, Beast Boy knows what’s going on, so I doubt I’ll be a dog too much longer. There’s not much point in either, anymore._

She sighs again. “Sorry. I wish there was more I could do to help you.”

_You’re doing plenty._ Pushing as much reassurance as he can to her, he makes his way down the stairs to the chest Marinette hid his leash in yesterday. Marinette notices what he’s trying to tell her and laughs. “Alright, alright. Let’s go.”

Though Marinette does promise to find something to entertain him during school hours, she never makes good on that promise. Not for lack of trying, of course. Their whole meandering walk is filled with Marinette brainstorming ideas. The only problem is the akuma that shows up right in the middle of it all.

Marinette leads him into a quiet alley and sends her apologies before transforming to deal with the threat. Of course, the akuma and both heroes are speaking French, so Jon is once again lost, but he does stick around to keep an eye on things.

Unfortunately, as he can tell by Marinette’s exasperation and dread, this is one of the tougher akuma. At first glance, it doesn’t seem all that dangerous, but its powers make it clear very quickly why Marinette has such trouble with it.

It wails loudly and there’s suddenly a huge shockwave released in all directions. The heroes hold onto solid things, trees and lampposts, and Jon is further away and can just hunker down to withstand it, but the car nearby the akuma goes flying, hard, into the building across the street. That is a lot of destruction that can go bad really quickly. It doesn’t seem to destroy the ground or buildings beyond the impact of other things crashing down, but anything not nailed down is sent flying.

As the battle rages, Jon follows them. Ladybug and her partner do well enough, but the akuma’s powers make it hard for them to get close. It lets them in to fight, to try to steal their Miraculous, but if they get the upper hand it evens the playing field again by throwing them back. They’re lucky they always just get thrown into the nearby buildings. Jon isn’t sure how far they’d go sailing if they went _up_ instead.

The power seems finicky, more designed to isolate the akuma itself rather than hurt anyone. It’s meant to push everyone nearby away, not to kill them, but Jon sees cars go sailing from this power and he wonders just how tough Ladybug and her partner are in their magic suits.

Jon is contemplating that, the limits of his soulmate’s seeming invulnerability, when the unthinkable happens. A lucky shot gives the akuma the upper hand on Ladybug, it pins her to the ground, and then its power sends Chat Noir flying across the street. The akuma keeps its eyes on Chat Noir but makes to reach for Ladybug’s earrings.

_Like hell._

A vicious growl tears from Jon’s throat at the fear he feels through the soul bond alone. He breaks out of his hiding place and sprints to the akuma. And fear fills Jon. He can’t be entirely sure, with how excited he and Ladybug both are, that it’s all his, but it’s there. Because he’s just an ordinary dog right now. He’s not Superboy. He’s vulnerable.

And yet… that’s also exactly why he _can_ act. Jon knows perfectly well that Beast Boy is around here somewhere. Probably more from the League, too. They wouldn’t miss watching the battle. But they can’t interfere because of how the bad guy’s powers work. They can’t make themselves targets for him. They have to wait for Chat Noir to recover and reclaim the earrings himself, if he doesn’t manage to save Ladybug before that.

But Jon doesn’t need to wait. He’s not Superboy, after all. Even if Paris’ villain sees him, he’s no special target. Just a dog. So, he rushes in, because good people get involved, and because he can. He rockets through the street, carefully positioned directly behind the akuma, and tackles it off of Ladybug before it even knows he’s there.

It gasps from the impact and screams something in French before blasting him with its power. He, along with Ladybug, goes sailing right back the way he came from. With a dull thud, he hits a building. All his breath is knocked out of him.

“Jon!” Ladybug gasps. She’s nearby, but not in Jon’s starry vision. “Why did you do that? You’re hurt!”

_Oh. Yeah. Ow._ Jon shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the daze. _I think this body is more fragile than I thought._

_But… I don’t think anything’s broken. Scraped up good, but otherwise I’m just… dazed._

_Go ahead and get back to the battle, Ladybug. You’ve got this._ Jon finds her, crouched over him, worrying over him, and he finds her deep in his soul, too, a little gateway deep inside him, where panic is flooding through. He stoppers that up good and pushes his reassurances through in its place. _I’m fine! Go!_ He barks, too, just to show her he’s alright, and finally Ladybug backs off. “Please, stay safe.”

_That is something I will literally never be able to promise. Sorry._

Ladybug takes off back towards the battle, and Jon wants to follow, but decides to blink the last of the stars out of his eyes first. Flying bodily into a building is a lot less disorienting when he’s invulnerable. And not a dog.

“Psst! Superboy!” Jon’s head snaps to the corner just around the building he smacked into. “Come here!”

Jon recognizes the voice. Beast Boy. So, he obeys. As soon as he’s around the corner and hidden, Beast Boy descends on him. “That was pretty nasty, dude. You alright?”

“I think so? Mostly just dazed me.” He’s had worse. He’s had worse without his invulnerability, even. Heck, just being around kryptonite actually hurts more than this.

“It doesn’t look serious.” Another voice, from another hero hovering over him, says. Zatanna frowns at him. “It shouldn’t interfere with turning you back, anyway.”

“Catch that, SB?” Beast Boy grins. “You ready to lose the tail?”

Jon chuckles to himself, wagging his tail. “Well, the tail can be kind of fun.”

“You get it.” Beast Boy laughs. Looking at Zatanna, he says, “Go for it.”

“Hold still.” Zatanna says. Jon does. He closes his eyes and waits patiently for her to cast her spell.

“Did some digging,” Beast Boy says as Jon feels himself change. “That Hawk Moth guy. Sends out akuma, these weird magic butterflies, that turn people into _those_ akuma, the villains that Ladybug and Chat Noir fight. Far as we can tell, it’s bad feelings that attract them, so, yeah, don’t let Hawk Moth know you’re here. Who knows what’ll happen if he gets you with one of those butterflies.”

Jon opens his eyes, seeing his own hands and the familiar “S” on his chest. A familiar weight settles across his shoulders, too. Jon will blame that one on the cape. It was nice, to not have it, but feeling it once more is more comforting than he’ll admit. “Maybe I’ll turn into a butterfly.” Jon says, smiling when Beast Boy laughs. “And thanks, Zatanna.” She smiles at him in answer.

“League doesn’t want us getting involved and making ourselves targets for Hawk Moth. That’d be worse for the heroes here than any help we can give, but they do want Zatanna and me to catch them before they disappear after the battle. Invite them to meet with everyone.”

“I can do that.” Jon says immediately.

“No.” Zatanna says. “We’re both already here, and you still need to be briefed on the situation.”

Jon frowns. “I’m fine.” He tilts his head, listening for the battle. It’s getting further away. “And I’ve been _living_ here for the past few days.”

“Yes, but yo-”

Jon feels it before he hears it. That same panic from earlier, and then a scream. He doesn’t wait for Zatanna to finish talking. He takes off, flying faster than a speeding bullet, sticking to hidden places as much as he can and trusting his own speed to carry him to Ladybug in time.

Jon is right to worry. She got blasted _up_. Now, she’s freefalling, far from the battle. Luckily not outside the evacuated area, so Jon can be a bit freer than otherwise as he zooms in to catch her.

She lands in his arms, and instinctively wraps her arms around his neck. Then, she catches his eyes and… _oh, wow…_ that’s the blue her eyes are. Shimmering and bright like the sky. Jon almost feels like he can fly in them. His dumb doggy vision definitely didn’t do that color favors.

And her suit! Red, almost _his_ red! Or, well, Superman’s red. Jon assumed it was red, but seeing her in it still takes his breath away. He never imagined she would be this _vivid_.

Slowly, she moves her hand. It snakes back from around his neck, brushing over the skin there and making him shiver. He can feel her own awe, mirroring his, and for a moment he thinks she’s moving to cup his cheek and his breath catches in his throat. But her hand keeps moving, and moving, and he feels a tug at his neck and finally tears his eyes from hers to see what she’s wringing in her free hand.

A leash.

_Oh._ Jon squeaks, realizing he’s still wearing the collar she put on him, and only marginally feels better about how mortified he is by the similar embarrassment coming from her side of the soul bond.

The weight of embarrassment alone drops him to the ground. He quickly bends to set her down feet-first, allowing her to stand. They stare at each other, then, for a moment, neither knowing what to say, and then a smirk tugs at her lips. Jon can feel the embarrassment on her end, too, but also the teasing. It’s weird, to feel the joke before it comes.

Ladybug gently tugs on the leash, pulling him closer and closer until their faces are almost touching. Jon knows his face is only growing more and more red with each step he takes. “You’re Superboy.”

“You’re Ladybug.” Jon counters.

Ladybug giggles. “Figures, this is my life.” She sighs, gently pressing her forehead to his. “I’m sorry, I have to go. That akuma is still…”

“I know.” Jon says. He clears his throat awkwardly, scared his voice might crack otherwise. “Up, up, and away.” Ladybug snorts, pulling back and loosening her grip on the leash, allowing Jon to pull back as well. Not that he particularly wants to. “We need to talk when you’re done.” He says. “Not just… Justice League stuff, I mean. There’s a few of us around right now, but we don’t want Hawk Moth knowing we’re here. I’m sorry we can’t help.”

“No, that’s good.” Ladybug says, her tone turning serious. “It’s better if you’re not in Paris at all. I’m not sure I could beat any of you if he gets you.”

Jon nods. “We’re inviting you to meet everyone. To talk about the situation. We do know the basics, though. No one volatile is here.”

“Good.” She nods.

“Go. We’ll talk more after.”

He stares at her as she takes off back towards the battle, and probably would keep standing there in the middle of the street like an idiot if his forgotten communicator didn’t suddenly come to life. “Flirting with the cute bug, Superboy?” Beast Boy teases. “What would your soulmate say?”

Jon rolls his eyes. _“You’re Superboy,” apparently._ He can’t say that, though. If Beast Boy hasn’t figured it out, there’s no reason to out her identity just yet. They can pretend not to be soulmates for the meeting and let her make the decision on her own whether to share her identity. So, that in mind, he answers, “Where’s my dog?”

Beast Boy is busy cackling while Jon heads over to find a good spot to watch the rest of the battle, carefully gathering the leash and removing his collar as he flies.

He smiles down at the collar and leash in his hand. _I think I’m going to hang onto this._ It’s certainly not the most orthodox way of meeting his soulmate, but she’s clearly no orthodox girl. He’s no orthodox boy. _Maybe I should thank that creepy bog witch._ He giggles at the feathery feeling bursting out of his chest. _I can’t wait to see where this leads._

**Author's Note:**

> I've read like one comic and a lot of fanfiction so I've written characters with less preparation tbh. Anyway, here I am giving in to the Maribat side of the fandom basically just because I thought it'd be funny to have a non-French speaker as the POV soulmate.  
> <3


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